The grass beneath my feet
by coeurgryffondor
Summary: "What are you doing here?"/"Something the rest of you aren't man enough to do," the German challenges, "taking care of a woman." / Tumblr holiday request for angsty Germany/Hungary. Interbellum.


Author's note: Tumblr holiday request (kvietka) « Hello. :) Could I request angsty GermanyXHungary or angsty LithuaniaXBelarus. Anything historical would be great. :3 Also, I just wanted to say that whenever I get an FF update for a new story that's been written, it makes my day. Happy (Early) Holidays! » I was in the mood for Hungary and missed writing Germany, plus these two have one of my favorite relationships in all of Hetalia so here, have some GerHun interbellum angst. I'm particularly proud of this one because I think it really captures what I so love about them.

* * *

**The grass beneath my feet**

Ludwig has loved her for as long as he can remember. He used to be led into the children's room even after he became an actual nation, being left there with Lili to play. His brother would laugh and pat his head when Ludwig would protest, leaving with a very stiff looking Roderich– well, Roderich has always been stiff as far as Ludwig can tell. The two men would leave, and somehow that was that.

And the young German hated it. He hated being still considered a child, he hated others telling him what to do, he hated being seen as little like Lili. He liked Lili– he still does, pretty little thing, forever his childhood playmate– but he wasn't tiny, precious Lili, he was Ludwig Beilschmidt, the unified Germany. That demanded respect!

The only escape were on days where Erzsi would sneak into the room, taking their hands and leading them quietly down the hall and out the large mansion. Lili would run ahead to feel the grass between her toes but Ludwig would hang back to help Erzsi stand as she pulled her own shoes and stockings off. "Come now, my love," the Hungarian used to laugh and quickly Ludwig would pull his socks and shoes off, taking her hand again and running through the grass with her. How far they'd run Ludwig never knew, not paying attention; all that mattered as they labored up hills to take in incredible views of the country was the way Erzsi's whole body would light up, her green eyes wide and so… alive, like Ludwig has never seen another person, the smile on her face that was just so real and beautiful and beyond anything language could ever capture. He's never seen Erzsi smile like that for Roderich; she only ever smiled like that at the tops of those hills, with him in her arms.

Ludwig has loved her since then, the first person to ever look at him and see a man, not a boy, the first woman to ever take his hand and kiss his cheek and tell him she loved him. It was never meant in the same way he loved her, but it was still good enough like a secret letter from a passionate lover: it was something they alone shared, Lili never straying too far from the house, Gilbert and Roderich huffing as they looked for them. Erzsi would giggle and Ludwig understood at that young age how precious those moments were.

* * *

It's like his body acts of its own accord, his brain filled with horrible thoughts, his soul dying right along with the nation he represented. Ludwig doesn't remember anything he said when he bought the train ticket with all the money he had left, doesn't remember packing his few possessions or getting into his seat. He remembers staring out the window though, at the green grass, and wondering how amazing it would feel between his toes. When had Erzsi last run through the grass? Before the Great War most likely, too long ago. Ludwig might have been too big by then to run with her, finally allowed to sit with Gilbert and Roderich in a room as they prepared for the always-approaching war, but his eyes had still been out the window watching her. Erzsi's hair had blown free in the wind that last day he can remember, her soul crying out for something greater to come through the light and take her away.

Maybe she knew.

Maybe Ludwig knows nothing.

At the station in Budapest he bundles up, carrying his bag as he makes the long hike through the city towards an apartment he trusts is still there, just as it ever was. There's something in the air he hates, all throughout the city, something that has been filling Europe for too long. Trying to push it from his mind, to at least have one happy(ish) day, Ludwig takes the stairs two at a time until he's knocking on the door, waiting for what he hopes is a servant to open it.

No, it's Erzsi who has to open her own door, the woman's face thin, her eyes dark and bloodshot, her hair a mess, her clothes plain where they should be elegant.

"Lutz," she breathes before collapsing in his arms.

* * *

She stands at her desk, one of the few nice things she has left, and Ludwig watches how Erzsi turns, how her simple dress still sweeps around her body, how despite the obvious look of having not eaten enough in months Erzsi is still the most beautiful thing the German has ever seen.

"Do not pity me because I am not as I once was," she whispers in perfect German and Ludwig can do nothing but nod, walking across the room to wrap the woman up in his arms. Once she held him; now he is larger and she is thinner and they're both broken.

"I still love you, Erzsébet." Her fingers trace Ludwig's jaw, her face trying to smile, but instead the Hungarian just ends up looking even sadder than before.

* * *

Wrapped up in her legs and the sheets of the bed Ludwig kisses across Erzsi's exposed chest, her fingers through his hair as her eyes are out the window. The woman has been crying for hours now, soft things in muttered Hungarian he just can't make out.

"I will love you forever," Ludwig pronounces, shifting up the bed to look Erzsi in the eyes.

"Will you?" she challenges. "Two times Germanic men have told me that before and two times they have left my side, having found me unworthy of them in the end."

"Forever," Ludwig repeats, holding Erzsi's cheeks but when he goes to kiss her she turns her face, the tears coming faster.

"My heart is too dead to believe anything anymore," she moans and it's the most heartbreaking thing Ludwig thinks he's ever heard.

* * *

Standing at the window in only her chemise, the light traces gently around the lines of Erzsi's body. Ludwig on the other side of the bed, half-dressed, can do nothing but admire the persistent beauty that Erzsi holds, looking once more at the poems in his hands she had written. They're beautiful things but Hungarian things, words no one else will understand, will appreciate, the way they are meant to be appreciated. Part of the German wants to suggest she write instead in German or French or Italian, all languages she speaks fluently and perfectly, but the rest of Ludwig knows she must do this in her own tongue, in her own way. Erzsi is mourning; they all are.

The woman turns slowly, walking to the bed. She pulls up her chemise as she moves so that she can get on the mattress on her knees, crawling across towards Ludwig. "When I die," and her words are blurred together by the tears stuck even now in her throat, "remember me as the great kingdom Hungary once was, not the pitiable thing I have become."

"You're talking nonsense my love," Ludwig interrupts, dropping the poems to the ground to join Erzsi on the bed, holding her close to him. "Hush now; I swear I will make this better for you."

"You can't save me now," the Hungarian challenges. "No one can: I am beyond redemption."

* * *

Ludwig finds a job hauling rubble, his body still physically strong though physically smaller than what it once was. The German puts everything he can into moving the stone, trying his best to imitate the accents of the men around him. The job pays little but it pays, and he does his best to get Erzsi all the food he can so that she doesn't have to work; Ludwig still believes in gentlemen and ladies, though he knows he shouldn't.

One day a man stops at the sight, dressed unlike the others, but Ludwig has been doing his best to keep his head down now and so thinks little of it. No one surely would ever come to seek him out; Germany was in a state of chaos, no one would have noticed when he left. Maybe in the end they're all living beyond their use, Ludwig and Erzsi and Gilbert and Roderich. Who needs them anymore anyway?

"What are you doing here?" the man calls out in clear, perfect English and Ludwig rises immediately at that, recognizing that voice and that the question was for him and him alone. The other men all look around, unsure of what was going on, as Ludwig slides down a little rubble pile to stand before Arthur Kirkland.

"Something the rest of you aren't man enough to do," the German challenges, "taking care of a woman." Green eyes, not too unlike Erzsi's, take him in before something seems to click and Arthur nods.

"When you've finished breaking your back doing this for the day," the Englishman says, already turning to leave, "write me. I have papers to be translated and Erzsi would be well suited for that task." Cane in hand Arthur moves on, walking beside the Danube with an indifference Ludwig knows means the man is suffering in silence too. They're all living well beyond their use.

* * *

He'd worked extra hours to save the money, telling Erzsi their destination is a surprise as they ride out of Budapest. The Hungarian grows weaker by the day, giving up on her life, nearly falling asleep on Ludwig, but he wakes her when they get to their destination, carrying her bridal-style into the field of grass.

Green eyes go wide as she looks all around, the woman slapping his chest with frantic pleads of, "Put me down! Put me down!" Once he's done so Erzsi holds his hand as she once did when he was a little boy, steadying herself as she removes her shoes, no more stockings to be pulled off as well. Ludwig follows suit, pulling off his shoes, before taking her hand and whispering,

"Come now, my love." The Hungarian's face lights up at that like it hasn't in years.

They run up the hill, the grass soft beneath their feet and between their toes, and when they get to the top they're looking out over Hungarian countryside like Ludwig knows Erzsi loves. He lets her reach the top first, admiring how her whole body was alight, her eyes wide and alive, a smile once more on her face that is real and beautiful and beyond anything any language could ever capture.

Ludwig steps up behind Erzsi, admiring how she laughs as he wraps his arms around her, how she sighs when he leans down to kiss her for the first time. Her arms are thin around his neck and her waist is thinner as his arms encircle her but never has Ludwig been more in love with someone than in that moment. Every moment with Erzsi has only ever been precious and this one, the one he gave her, is perhaps the most precious of all.


End file.
